


don't sit under the apple tree (But Not The Song, Coda #2)

by emilyray (emilyenrose), ignipes



Series: But Not The Song [3]
Category: Bandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-24
Updated: 2008-07-24
Packaged: 2017-10-16 02:09:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/167284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emilyenrose/pseuds/emilyray, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ignipes/pseuds/ignipes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spencer's halfway up a tree when Brent murmurs, "Oh look, here he comes." Spencer ducks his head as he climbs down the ladder, because Brent won't appreciate his instant smile.</p>
            </blockquote>





	don't sit under the apple tree (But Not The Song, Coda #2)

_  
**don't sit under the apple tree (But Not The Song, Coda #2)**   
_   
[Story Index and Warnings](http://community.livejournal.com/shacklesnchains/446.html)

 ** _don't sit under the apple tree (with anyone else but me)_**  
_

 _Five years ago._

Spencer's halfway up a tree when Brent murmurs, "Oh look, here he comes." Spencer ducks his head as he climbs down the ladder, because Brent won't appreciate his instant smile.

He likes Brent, of course. Brent's kind of new (or not - he's been around for a few years now, but all friends are new friends compared to Ryan) and he's a farm slave, not house staff. So is Spencer, strictly speaking, but his mother's the cook and his father watches the hounds, so he's a farm slave with privileges. Not just because of that, of course - maybe least of all because of that - but, well.

Brent and Spencer get along really well, enough that Ryan even invited Brent to come with them on one of their excursions into the woods. That hadn't gone so well. Whatever weird alchemy allows Ryan to be not-a-master and Spencer to be not-a-slave when it's just the two of them, it stops working when another person's added to the mix. Spencer could see Ryan trying, but he was awkward and Brent was suspicious and afterwards Ryan had shrugged one-shouldered and said, "Sorry."

(Brent said, even later, "I - it's obvious he likes you, man. That's good. It's good when they like you." Spencer kept quiet, didn't protest, because he couldn't think of a good way to explain that Ryan wasn't a 'they' at all.)

Ryan stops and leans on the orchard gate. Brent and Spencer are supposed to be picking apples, the last of the late summer harvest, but of course any order Ryan gives will supercede that. Ryan looks at Brent and says, "I think they could use you down at the barn."

"Yes sir," says Brent. He picks up the half-full bushel and takes it with him, giving Spencer a wry grin as he goes and bowing his head as he passes Ryan. Spencer watches him leave and wishes, a little bit, that he didn't feel quite so glad about it.

Ryan opens the orchard gate for him, halfway to considerate, and closes it behind him. Then he leans back on it and smirks at Spencer. "Apples?" he says.

"You want one?" asks Spencer.

"Sure."

Spencer scrambles back up the ladder and seats himself on a branch of the apple tree, leaning against the trunk, legs swinging in the air. His hand closes around a ripe red apple and he plucks it, weighs it in his hand for a second before throwing it to Ryan. Ryan fumbles the catch, of course, he always does. He rolls his eyes at Spencer's shout of laughter, bends to pick the apple up out of the grass, and takes a bite.

Spencer laughs again at the expression on his face. "They're cider apples," he says helpfully. "Not very good for eating."

"Asshole," says Ryan.

"It's _your_ orchard."

" _Asshole_. Get down here and talk to me."

"You could come up."

Ryan eyes the ladder dubiously. "I don't think so. They actually make you use those?"

"It's mostly easier just to climb the fucking tree," says Spencer.

Ryan shakes his head. "I like the ground. I'm fine with the ground. You'll be sorry, you know, when you fall and crack your skull. Lose what little brain you've got."

"Fuck off," says Spencer easily.

Ryan looks mournful. "Is that any way to talk to me, Spence?"

"Oops, sorry. Fuck off, sir."

They stare at each other for a minute - Ryan's mouth twitching, Spencer grinning broadly - before they both burst out laughing. Spencer jumps out of the tree, ignoring the ladder, and hits the ground hard. His knee twists a little under him, and he sits down on the grass with a thump. "Oof," he says.

"What did I tell you?" says Ryan, sitting down beside him. "Here." He digs into his pocket, comes out with a half-melted bar of chocolate, which he breaks ceremoniously in half before passing some (the smaller piece, just) to Spencer. Spencer practically inhales it, it tastes so good. "I'd like to point out what a good friend I am," says Ryan. "You give me sour apples, I give you chocolate."

"I'm definitely ashamed of myself," Spencer says.

They end up stretched out on the grass under the apple tree. Ryan does most of the talking. He's had another fight with his father, he's angry. "He's just so petty," he says, several times. "He doesn't get it." The last time he says it, he puts his hand over his eyes, blocking the sun - his other arm is stretched out over his head - and adds, "He said he'd sell you. If I didn't start making an effort."

Spencer's stomach swoops, and his vision blurs for a minute, badly enough that he has to close his eyes.

"Hey, hey," says Ryan, suddenly sounding worried, "Hey, _no_ , as if I'd let him. I won't let him, I promise. I swear, Spence, no one's ever taking you away from me, all right?"

Spencer keeps his eyes closed. The sun warms his eyelids. "All right," he says. He believes it, too. If there's one thing in his life, in the whole world, that he trusts, it's Ryan.

They're quiet for a while.

"I think," says Spencer eventually, opening his eyes and looking up at the leaves, "I think he's going to sell my sisters." The twins are a few years younger than Spencer but more than old enough, and it's not like the Ross farm, with its dogs and its horses and its fields, needs a lot of girl slaves.

"No," says Ryan at once. "Fuck him, I won't let him do that either. Okay?"

Spencer nods. He doesn't know how Ryan would stop the sale from happening, and yet he does feel better.

They stay out in the orchard until the sun starts to sink and the air gets cooler. Ryan sighs and says, "He'll expect me to be there for dinner. I think he's having whatshername and her awful mother over again."

Whatshername could be any one of half a dozen girls. Ryan calls them all that interchangeably and thinks all their mothers are awful. "Good luck," Spencer says.

"I'll need it," says Ryan. He knocks his arm against Spencer's when they climb to their feet. "Hey."

"Hey what?"

Ryan's smirk is quick and sharp and sure, and he moves fast. Spencer's not expecting it, and before he has time to think he's got his back pressed against the apple tree's trunk, Ryan's hands on his shoulders. One of his flailing hands knocks the ladder over as he goes, and it topples sideways into the grass.

"Hey," says Ryan again, much, much closer.

"Ryan, what -" Spencer gets out, but _the hell_? is muffled by Ryan's mouth closing over his. It's warm and soft and _weird_ , and then there's more pressure, one of Ryan's hands leaving his shoulder to hold his face steady, and then Ryan bites his lower lip and breaks away.

Spencer stares at him. His expression must be pretty hilarious, because Ryan starts laughing. "I'll - I'll see you later," he manages, between chuckles, and he turns to go. He pauses at the orchard gate. "You have grass in your hair."

"I -" Spencer stumbles, and then recovers. "You too. Asshole."

"Fuck off," says Ryan. "Whatshername'll probably think it's romantic."

"Her awful mother will think you're a mess," says Spencer.

"And who'll be right?" Ryan shoots back, quick as a flash, and then he grins and he's gone.

Spencer runs a hand through his hair. Sure enough, he comes away with a couple of blades of grass trapped between his fingers. There's dirt under his fingernails.

Ryan never mentions that afternoon again. The next time he comes to find Spencer he's exactly like always, and Spencer doesn't dare bring it up. He thinks, he thinks maybe eventually Ryan'll say something, do something. _Something._

As it turns out, there's no _eventually_ to be had.

If Spencer ever thinks of it, in the years after that, it's only as one more thing the raid took away from him.


End file.
